For a moment it seemed the Prince might chastise Blackstone. Instead, he nodded. ‘I know all of this, Thomas. The politics of Spain are now coiled like the serpent around us. I favour him only so far. He goes to war. He will attack the French army of the north once he crosses the Seine. He lays claim to the throne of France.’ He paused. ‘Yet again.’

‘Highness, we both know how dangerous that is,’ said Blackstone. ‘The river crossings are few and far between and held by French forces. He cannot win.’

The Prince’s finger traced a line on the map south of Paris along the river. ‘The town of Vernon commands a bridge across the Seine and Vernon belongs to Navarre’s sister, the dowager Queen. That’s her domain. That is where they will cross.’

‘Navarre is no field commander,’ said Killbere. ‘We’ve seen him lead men. Or try to.’

‘He will not lead the troops. He has recruited two thousand routiers, Gascons and Bretons and some English, as well as his own Navarrese troops. Our esteemed Gascon lord and friend the Captal de Buch will command them. Navarre will stay...’ He paused and smiled. ‘… at home. That is the most generous way we can phrase it. He stays in his castle at Pamplona.’

Blackstone and the Prince held each other’s gaze for a moment. The involvement of the experienced commander Jean de Grailly, the Captal de Buch, was not lost on Blackstone; some of his own men-at-arms were Gascons and one of his ablest captains, Beyard, was a sworn man to the Captal.

‘My Lord de Grailly wants my men?’

‘Yes.’

‘Highness, that leaves me depleted. I have a small command by choice. We are close knit. We travel fast. I can rally a thousand men and more to meet your own demands when the need arises but I need men with me who have fought together. Who know what to expect of the man at their shoulder. At least let me keep my captain Beyard.’

‘No. He goes with de Grailly. He needs him.’

Blackstone was about to protest but the stern look from the Prince stopped him. ‘Do not challenge your Prince’s decision, Thomas.’

Blackstone dipped his head. ‘My lord. May I ask for those men taken from me to be replaced from your own?’

‘Who?’

‘William Ashford from the King’s guard and his dozen men. They rode with us when he accompanied Father Torellini to Avignon. He’s a man I trust and he would have stayed with us had he not been recalled to accompany you from Bordeaux to Bergerac.’

The Prince seemed uncertain. ‘I value him highly, Thomas. I keep him close.’

‘Highness, I need a man of equal stature to Beyard. If I am to serve you effectively, then grant me Ashford.’